Sister, Mine
by Nausicaa Smith
Summary: Byakuya contemplates the women in his past and present as he learns to be a brother to a girl who was always destined to be his sister.


Kuchiki Byakuya sat quietly on a bench in the shade of a dogwood tree. The afternoon sun shone brightly on a rose garden outside the windows of one of the larger conference centers in Seireitei. This one was largely unused, as the 13 squads were still in a state of disarray after the war. The 10th and the 6th were the only ones that were truly still organized. Lieutenant Hinamori had left to train for her Bankai, in order to take the position of the 5th Captain under the tutelage of former Captain Hirako. The girl definitely had fortitude, in the face of all she'd been through. She had somehow come out alive and not permanently broken, and if she reached Bankai she certainly deserved the Captainship. Rukia had finally accepted the position of 13th Lieutenant, and was helping Ukitake get things re-organized. She was also trying to help Urahara and Kurosaki and their bunch repair the damages that had been done in the Real World. The council of governors still debating on whether or not to re-establish Central Room 46, Kurotschi was trying to get a cell-phone system like the one in the real world organized at least in Seireitei, and the Kenpachi was trying to organize some kind of tournament-style competition for seats in his division. All in all it was a mess, but it was coming back together piece by piece.

But right this moment, all was peaceful. Byakuya enjoyed peace and quiet. He always had. It was one of the things that caused him to so often be at odds with his former mentor Yoruichi: she was very loud. She was boisterous and playful and full of energy and mischief. Oh, he had loved her dearly, no doubt. Yoruichi had been a savior to him—a mother and sister and aunt and friend all in one, to an orphaned boy lost in a world of elderly tutors and crotchety old nannies. She'd taught him to fence, to fight, to flash—and to pick flowers and write a proper love poem for a girl he'd fancied at the Academy that year. It hadn't worked out, but no matter. Yoruichi had also lectured him about letting things and people go. Byakuya wondered vaguely if she'd been trying to prepare him mentally for her disappearance, if she'd known, even then, that she'd be leaving soon. No, probably not, he decided. If Yoruichi ever had been anything, it was spontaneous. She'd left in an instant, on a whim, just the way she did everything else in life. That was Yoruichi. A golden leaf, one moment resting innocuously on the ground, the next flying through the air on a new and adventurous wind.

Yoruichi was much the opposite of Hisana. Hisana had been a classic beauty, quiet, calm, always graceful and dignified. And yet, it was she who had taught him to understand himself, to know love and sorrow and hate and to appreciate what they meant. She had been a different kind of mentor, one who taught the theory rather than practical lessons like Yoruichi's. That was perhaps what had drawn Byakuya to her in the first place. How, he wondered, could one so demure and delicate be filled with such passion? Hisana was one to sit in the back gardens during a thunderstorm, to let the rain soak her to the bone and the winds blow her hair wild and free. She was perfectly ladylike when doing so, of course. She ordered her household with a kind but iron fist, giving her requests so sweetly that none could refuse. She was adored by her hairdressers and ladies in waiting, always surrounded by admirers and doted on at social occasions, which she hated. It amused Byakuya that this was the only side they ever saw of her—all sweetness and light and propriety. But her calligraphy was sharp and jagged like lightning, her flower arrangements filled with stormy purples and blues. And that was Hisana—rock steady, defiantly weathering the gale of her life until it had at last blown itself out.

Now Rukia, she was something else altogether. In comparing the women of his life (and how few there had been!) Byakuya thought that perhaps each one was meant to teach him a different lesson. Yoruichi taught him how to live, Hisana taught him why to live. Rukia... the jury was still out on Rukia. While at first he had been somewhat resentful of her—and she of him, he was sure—he had come to love her. But he'd never had a proper sibling before, and he had little idea how to treat her. It had taken so many years, and all these trials for her to learn to be herself around him. She was lambent topaz, a penny-bright sun on a cloudless day. She was as practical as Yoruichi and as passionate as Hisana, outspoken and stubborn, but quiet and watchful when necessary. She was also quite bossy when the occasion called for it, ordering people about and getting things done where otherwise there would be much floundering and wringing of hands. Byakuya had, in spite of himself and in spite of her size (for she was smaller and if possible, even more birdlike and delicate than Hisana) come to think of her as a big sister, rather than a little one. He had needed her, it turned out, much more than she would ever need him. Byakuya suspected that she'd have bullied him if they'd grown up together—she had a mean streak half a mile wide, as Renji had once pointed out. But that was Rukia, of course—wild and willful, a gorgeous yellow morning during a cruel summer. There was blinding light and sweat stinging your eyes—but the flowers were thriving and the birds were singing.

Byakuya stood up from his place outside the lobby—there were things that needed to be done, and staring off into the sky all afternoon wasn't an acceptable waste of time. He passed silently (thanks to Yoruichi) through two hallways and entered a conference room on the left. Rukia and Ukitake were here in dark formal dress (in stark contrast to Ukitake's long white ponytail), staring out a back window toward the koi ponds and the sakuras. Shiba Kukkaku was lounged across a low bench, her long hair hanging down to the ground and her flowery kimono in tangles. Byakuya could see why she never wore one—it simply looked unnatural. She wasn't a delicate woman, but nor was she mannish—she was simply substantial. The kimono was too feminine for her square face and her square personality. The four waited, if not in a comfortable silence then in an indifferent one at least.

A flock of white birds flew by.

At last their final attendee and official Mistress of Ceremonies appeared in the doorway. A flourish of purple skirts, cat-like amber eyes... and no shoes. Byakuya wanted to sigh with indignation. Princess Shihouin Yoruichi had the class and the manners and the style to be appropriate for any occasion, and usually she chose not to. She'd once told him that in her youth her snobbish parents had forced her into so many uncomfortable social situations that she'd come to scoff at manners and customs and fashion. Manners were for other people. Yoruichi was herself, and she had no one to impress. The elders would balk at the length of her hair and the shiny rings on her bare painted toes, and she would merely call them prudes and saunter off into the sunset as usual.

"Are we all here? Excellent!"

She laid a clean white jewelry case on the mahogany conference table.

"This was a bitch to organize, yanno. You people are tough to track down. Well gather 'round, come on, I haven't got all day."

Ukitake and Rukia came to stand beside Yoruichi, Rukia somewhat awkwardly. She was fiddling with her scarf. Byakuya wished she wouldn't; it wasn't the expense of the things that bothered him, but how long it took to have one made. If he ordered one today it would be half a year before it arrived.

The rumpled Shiba woman hadn't moved. Yoruichi found a nearby encyclopedia and threw it at her.

"GET UP SLACKER I'VE GOT PLACES TO BE!"

Shiba got up and straightened her kimono out a little. She lit a cigarette. Byakuya wrinkled his nose and Ukitake took two steps away from her.

"Ok." Yoruichi began. "So, here we are. I had a speech prepared, but I lost it somewhere on the way so I'm going to have to wing it. Ready? Ready.

"Ahem. We, the heads of the four High Noble Houses, have come together today to honor a young lady called Kuchiki Rukia. We thank her deeply for her services to Captain Ukitake and to the Gotei 13. Her use of her skills in the war have been immeasurably helpful. Her kindness is boundless, her bravery unparallelled."

Rukia covered her face with both hands. It was quite red.

"And so, Miss Kuchiki, for your services to Seireitei and the 13th Division and to the world, for your integrity, your bravery, your honor; for your skills with a sword and your mastery of magic, for your displays of uncommon courage in the face of unfathomable hardship—and for the great kindness you have done for our comrade, our teacher, our brother and our friend, Shiba Kaien, we award you the Ribbon of Snow."

Yoruichi opened the jewelry case, and gingerly removed from it a long white ribbon made of the finest silk. At one end was a pin, decorated by four jewels representative of the four Noble Houses: a ruby for Shiba House, a sapphire for Ukitake House, an amethyst for Shihouin House and an emerald for the House of Kuchiki.

"The highest military honor awarded by the four Noble Houses." Yoruichi bent and pinned it to Rukia's shoulder. It fell gracefully down her left sleeve, dazzlingly white in the sunlight that rained in from the open windows. "I realize you probably will only ever wear it this one time, kiddo, because you're like that. But just remember that you've earned it, and you have our deepest gratitude and respect."

She leaned down (she was much taller than the Kuchiki women) and kissed Rukia's scarlet cheek. The Shiba woman did likewise, then stepped away quickly as if she didn't want to catch anything. Yoruichi shoved her lightly and she stumbled in the dress shoes she wasn't accustomed to wearing.

Ukitake knelt and put his arm around Rukia. "I'm going to hug you twice, because Byakuya isn't going to hug you at all." Byakuya rolled his eyes as the old man did just that, and Yoruichi handed Rukia the jewelry case.

"And now kiddos, I've got to be off, before Yama-ji has me arrested. I'm still technically an outlaw and shit." Yoruichi stood up on her tip toes to kiss Ukitake goodbye—as Yoruichi had been an instructive aunt to Byakuya, so had Ukitake always been a wise grandfather to Yoruichi. With a flick of maroon she was gone again, off on another wild wind.

Shiba patted Rukia on the head. "See ya later 'Chiki, call me when we can get together with Ichigo." And she trotted off unsteadily, cursing quietly under her breath.

"Rukia, enjoy the rest of your day off. I've got to track down Kiyone and Sentaro and schedule some drills for next week." Ukitake waved himself out, and Rukia and Byakuya were alone. She took off the ribbon and put it back in the jewelry case.

"Well." Byakuya cleared his throat slowly. "The filthy human brat and your friends are at the manor."

"Oh?" she raised a thin eyebrow, intrigued.

"Yes, they've taken over your rooms and are hiding in the closet. I believe it's called a 'surprise party.' It looks to be very messy."

"I see." She smiled, and it was Hisana's smile but the light in it was all her own. "Well we ought to hurry back, oughtn't we, before they destroy the manor?"

"Indeed."

"Let us go in the back way, that way they won't be expecting us. Perhaps _we_ can surprise _them_."

And there it was, as plain as day. The jury wasn't still out on Rukia at all; her purpose in Byakuya's life was perfectly-sparkling, even-crystal clear. Yoruichi taught practical, useful lessons. Hisana taught theoretical, emotional ones. Rukia, she was here to teach logic. In a word, to educate him in thinking outside the box. To complete the puzzles, to fill in the blank places for him. Perhaps Rukia hadn't been born _into_ Kuchiki House, but she had certainly been born _for_ it. She may not have grown up as his sister, but she had grown to be his sister, as she had no doubt always been meant to be. Funny that he should find her through the sorrow of his wife's death, but Destiny as always would work in mysterious ways.

"A fine idea, sister. Let us be off." Byakuya held out his arm and she took it with a shyness, but her eyes were laughing. "I know a lovely shortcut through the park in the west district. Perhaps we shall see a rabbit."


End file.
